Pink job or blue job – that is the question

The Emperor Adrian’s an old-fashioned sort of chap who believes that men should do men’s jobs and women belong in the kitchen. Well, that’s what he’d have you believe, when he’s not turning out a quick chicken satay or some other delicious dish. He was suitably appalled when he found me many feet up the ladders, lasuring the underside of the eaves, before the guttering can be put up. “That’s a blue job!” he announced “Why aren’t you scrubbing the kitchen floor or doing something pink?” Now I have to admit that the kitchen floor was in serious need of scrubbing, but as anyone who knows me will be well aware, housewifeliness isn’t my strong point; I’d much rather be painting, tiling, making stained glass; in fact, doing anything other than housework. But even Emperor Adrian had to admit that there is such a surfeit of blue jobs around here at the moment; chopping and stacking firewood, hanging doors, building walls, just to name a few, that those jobs with just a hint of lilac about them are fair game for me.

Decorating has more than enough pinkness about it, and I’ve finished the dining end of the kitchen, which looks much better, in stark contrast to the cooking end. I hope to start tiling the walls tomorrow, so watch out, Ade!

The boys, in the meantime, have been putting up rails for the last of the internal walls and hanging the first door inside the new house and we’ve finally decided where all the electric sockets are to go, before Didier, the electrician, comes back tomorrow.